Claimed by the Prince of Darkness-Chapter 88: Be a smart cookie!

A quiet breeze moved across the balcony but Ruelle barely felt it as she was too shocked to feel anything.

Her gaze shifted towards the prince’s attendant. And he must have sensed it because his weary eyes lifted and met hers. Then he inclined his head a fraction, a quiet gesture of condolence like a fellow offering sympathy at a burial. As if to say he too was only another lamb trapped in the prince’s world. And as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

Before the situation could spiral further, Ruelle took a deep breath and addressed, "I would like to speak alone with you."

"Yes. Of course," Ezekiel nodded, already stepping forward and relieved that she wanted to discuss it. He turned to the prince and politely informed him, "Your Highness, Ruelle and I will discuss—"

"I meant with His Highness," Ruelle clarified politely.

Ezekiel froze mid-breath. Did she decide to be the prince’s mistress?! Rage shot up his spine as he turned to her with a look of disbelief in his eyes.

"You heard her." Edward snapped his fingers with a pleased expression. "Both of you are dismissed so we can discuss our arrangement once she’s my mistress. Also take the guards along with you, Hermes."

Once they left Ruelle and the prince alone, Edward leaned back in his plush seat. He closed his eyes and remarked, "You must have resisted because you were overwhelmed by the idea of standing beside me. I knew you were a smart cookie—"

"I do not want to be your mistress," Ruelle interrupted quietly.

Edward’s eyes flew open. "What?!" He glared at her, as if insulted. "It seems like you do not want to be a smart cookie."

"I don’t," she replied honestly. "Forgive me—"

"Take it back." Edward leaned forward, eyes narrowing as if she would be intimidated by it. "I know you want to be a smart cookie. You clearly said it wrong," he insisted. "Try this. ’Thank you, Edward, for graciously rescuing me. I would be honoured to be your mistress.’"

Ruelle pursed her lips as both of them stared at each other. She began, "Thank you, Edward—"

"Very good. You are halfway there," Edward nodded in encouragement.

"—but I do not wish to be your mistress," her words came in a rush.

Ruelle looked at her plate, as if guessing how well the bird was cooked. She could feel the prince’s stare burning a hole into the side of her head. It was an unspoken rule that one couldn’t refuse the words of the Crown. But if she didn’t try now, she would never get the chance again.

Edward’s cheerful arrogance fled from his face, which was now replaced with him squinting at her.

"Are you broken?" he demanded, baffled to his very soul. "I am saying one thing and you keep answering with something entirely different. You clearly need a physician’s assistance. Hermes!" He craned his neck, but the attendant had already left.

"Yes," Ruelle murmured faintly, half to herself. "I keep hearing things that surely cannot be real."

She was hungry and she wanted to eat what was laid on the table in front of her. But she was sceptical about the response she would receive if she started eating in the middle of their conversation. Given the opportunity, she would bolt out of here.

Edward let out a tired sigh and declared, "Very well. I have decided that I shall fix you," as if he was doing her a favour. "Something is clearly wrong with your brain. Perhaps the trauma of standing near me has overwhelmed you."

"It is possible," Ruelle agreed again.

Edward looked more than offended. She disagreed when she should have agreed, and agreed when she should have disagreed! He demanded,

"Why? Why do you not wish to be my mistress? Any other woman in your position would have expressed gratitude by now. They would die over the opportunity."

"The audacity of this human," Edward then inhaled sharply as if stabbed by unimaginable betrayal. He pressed one of his hands dramatically on his chest. Then he looked at her again, with an incredulous expression. He stated the obvious, "Sexton is going to have you chosen anyway. All the humans signed their compliance and you belong to Sexton now, property of the institution. Shouldn’t you reconsider your options?"

What? "I don’t understand," Ruelle was at a loss for words. What did he mean by ’signed as their property? Because she hadn’t signed anything.

"All the humans here are bound to the contract. I know that the human male’s first or second time drawn blood is used for it. Though I don’t know the details about the women," Edward said matter-of-factly. He continued,

"Now how about you reconsider my decision. Though I believe you less—"

"Your Highness, I do not understand why you want me as your mistress when there are far more willing young women in Sexton," Ruelle reasoned softly. She didn’t want the privilege he was offering and was more than happy for someone else to take it. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Edward scoffed, before waving a dismissive hand.

"Isn’t that obvious? You are far more suitable than any of the other worthlings here. They shrieked and fled the moment they saw my glued self. But you helped me. You were patient and kind. Most people pretend around me. They flatter, they lie and mock when I am not looking..."

His jaw tightened briefly as if it affected him even though he rolled his eyes. His gaze then softened on her. "But you didn’t. You were honest. You spoke to me as if I were... a person."

Ruelle stared at him for a moment, surprised by the flicker of sincerity beneath all that arrogance. Her brows knit together and she asked carefully,

"Your Highness, do you have friends?"

Edward blinked at her ridiculous question. He asked her, "If you are asking if people I know have mistresses, they do." But when she continued to look at him, his shoulders stiffened for a fleeting second and he muttered, "Not people I trust. Why?"

Ruelle’s heart softened before she could stop it. It was possible that his ridiculous, entitled, chaotic way... he thought he wanted her as a mistress. He was trying to buy companionship with power because he didn’t know how else to keep someone.

"I think what you are looking for is a friend, Your Highness. Not a mistress," Ruelle’s voice was compassionate.

"Huh?" Edward blinked at her like she had spoken another language. "What would I do with that—"

"Someone who doesn’t think you are foolish, and if someone called you foolish, to stand next to you and fight back together. Someone who won’t pretend but will speak to you honestly, so that you grow..." Ruelle’s words were softer than the air that surrounded them. "That is why you need one. I can be your friend... Edward," she smiled in the end.

Edward’s pupils widened slightly.

He didn’t understand whether it was her words or that unguarded smile offered so freely to him when no one else ever did. But something felt warm about it and he felt his heart skip a beat, which he could not yet name.